Forever
by The Half-Blood Guardian
Summary: Looking up at his darker half and holding the Puzzle even tighter, Yuugi declared with an intensity and certainty backed by all the feelings in his heart, "I'll give you all MY memories!" (Oneshot. Tag for episode 52 of Duel Monsters. Not part of the Submersion universe.)


**_Rating: K+ for brief descriptions of past violence_**

**_Genres: Friendship, Drama_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! in any of its various incarnations._**

**_A/N #1: This is a Yuugi and mou hitori no Yuugi/Yami Yuugi friendship fic with_ lots_ of feels_._ In other words, it's not intended to be slash, but it could easily be read as such, I suppose._**

**_A/N #2 (You should probably skip the next paragraph, unless, for some reason, you like to read author's rants): I wrote this story as something to sort of distract me from how annoyed I am at what happens in episode 53, literally _one episode after this._ Seriously. I get that it had to happen eventually, but come on! They could've at _least_ inserted more episodes to separate them. Preferably somewhere around twenty, in my opinion. _**_**Also, if you're familiar with episode 52 (the Japanese version, that is) you'll notice that a lot of events in this story are from the actual episode. You'll also notice that they were stitched together from three different parts of the episode. I understand why the creators decided to spread the scene out, but at the same time, I'm disappointed at how short the sections were. The feels kept being cut off just as they were starting to get good! But eh, that part most likely only annoys me because I'm a certified sucker for feels, as I'm pretty sure you'll notice within the first five paragraphs or so. *grins sheepishly***_

* * *

**Forever**

**By: The Half-Blood Guardian**

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Yuugi sat at the head of his bed with the Millennium Puzzle in front of him. He had his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around them, and was resting his chin on his knees as he stared at the Puzzle, not really seeing it or anything else in the room. The memory of fumbling with pieces of the same Puzzle while attempting to put it back together played in his mind. Rather than feeling the comfortably cool night air around him or the warm bedspread and springy mattress beneath him, he was experiencing the remembered sensation of being seemingly cooked alive.

He felt the phantom impression of oppressive heat biting at the skin of his hands and face, seeping in through the cloth of his school uniform and baking the rest of his body. He remembered the greedy flames encroaching on him, their searing tendrils reaching and flickering and getting ever closer, and knowing his hair and clothes would have been drenched in sweat and plastered to his skin if it weren't for the arid heat that was causing any moisture to immediately evaporate.

He had to remind himself now, just as he had then, not to pant, though instead of the reason being to prevent losing any extra moisture or inhaling any more of the smoke-filled air than he had to, this time it was because there was nothing actually wrong with the air or the temperature, and no need for him to be panting.

Brought out of the restful semi-awareness he had been floating in when he felt unease travel down the mind link, the spirit of the Puzzle shook off the mental fatigue that still clung to him from the ordeal of several days before. He knew his Aibou was recovering as well, both physically and mentally, and he doubted the boy would be opposed to some quiet company. And anyhow, he still needed to express his thanks for what Yuugi had done for him, and what he'd been willing to do; he really should have spoken to him about it earlier, but he'd just been too exhausted after having the Puzzle shattered to think about much of anything for a while.

With a bit more difficulty than normal, he willed himself to materialize in his phantasmic form at the other's side. The bed didn't creak or sink beneath him, and the blanket stayed unrumpled and undisturbed where he "sat." He knew his company was a far cry from the genuine weight and warmth that literally anyone else could offer the boy with their presence, but he hoped that it would help his aibou somewhat to have at least the illusion of there being another solid person in the room with him.

_"Thank you,"_ he said sincerely and without preamble, as straightforward and honest in expressing his appreciation as he was with anything else when it came to his partner. _"You risked your life in that fire to put the Millennium Puzzle back together."_

"But it was Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun that saved us," Yuugi responded, a little bit uncomfortable at the praise he was receiving. After all, if it had only been him and the Puzzle in that warehouse, said Puzzle would have ended up a warped, half-melted lump of gold regardless of whether he'd ended up solving it or not, and he would have fared no better than the artifact.

Just remembering the deafening crackle of fire as the old structure had slowly started to fall apart around him caused a shiver to go down his spine. Considering how bad the fire had gotten, he really had made it out of the warehouse with minimal damage to his person: a moderate case of heat exhaustion, mild smoke inhalation, and burns to his hands and face that were so minor by now that they could barely even be considered such. Honestly, with his pale complexion, he'd dealt with worse burns on at least two or three occasions simply from being out in the sun for too long without applying sunscreen.

Though he suspected the only reason his hands weren't seared bloody and covered in blisters was because of his bond with the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, and thus his connection to the Puzzle itself; in any other circumstances, handling pieces of metal for a long period of time inside a burning building would have left him with serious wounds. Honda-kun and Jounouchi-kun were evidence of that; they had both needed medical attention themselves, the metal pole they'd used to pry the Puzzle free having burned their hands even in the short amount of time they'd been using it.

But other than a lingering feeling of fatigue and slightly tender skin that stung a little when touched, he was practically back to normal. And yet, if this had happened less than a year earlier, back before Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun had become his friends, and he and Anzu had been more distant… if it hadn't been for the two boys managing to find him when they had… He swallowed thickly.

_"I guess you're right,"_ his see-through companion said. The smooth, steady voice of his darker half calmed him, keeping him from sinking any further down that tunnel of disturbing thoughts. The spirit tilted his head towards him a little, looking at him sideways and adopting a small smile. _"We have good friends."_

Yuugi gave a slight nod and a distracted hum in response. He didn't look up.

The spirit's smile dropped and he turned his head fully to look at him.

_"Hey, what's on your mind?"_ He asked the other gently, poorly-concealed worry lacing his words. He grew even more worried when he still got no answer, either verbally or through their mind link. Unless they were in public or some other place where it could create problems, it wasn't often that his Aibou flat-out refused to talk to him. And it was even less often that he fully closed his side of the mind link.

Reaching a hesitant hand towards Yuugi's shoulder, the spirit paused in uncertainty when it was only a few inches away. After a moment of indecision he lowered the hand, mentally cursing his lack of familiarity and adeptness when it came to dealing with emotional matters. That had always been Yuugi's forte, not his; where he was the stern, immovable force that powered through intense and frequently dangerous situations without batting an eyelid, Yuugi was the mellow, peaceful presence who could tell with just a glance if someone was unhappy and somehow knew just how to help them. He was the one who was often able to talk people out of making rash decisions, and whose voice helped ease others' fears and worries.

Now it was Yuugi who was the one in need of being comforted, and the spirit felt like kicking himself for being so utterly hopeless at giving emotional support. He realized he was scowling and quickly smoothed out his features, glancing furtively back at the boy and hoping he hadn't seen the ugly expression or the way he'd tensed angrily at his own shortcomings. Yuugi only continued staring down silently at the Puzzle, and it was obvious that he hadn't noticed any of the other's actions.

_Maybe he needs some space,_ the spirit thought, though without access to even the barest hint of his partner's thoughts, he was far from certain if that was truly what the teenager wanted or needed. _Either way, my presence here does not seem to be helping him._

He stopped just as he was about to let himself be pulled back into the Puzzle, remembering that Yuugi had blocked his side of their link. If he pulled his "body," such as it was, out of the physical world, he would have no way of knowing about any changes with his Aibou.

He hesitated briefly before carefully maneuvering around the boy and crawling off the end of the bed instead of gliding through the obstacle as he often did when in his immaterial form. He hoped the show of false normalcy might offer some form of comfort. He then took a few deliberate steps away until he stood in front of the closet door and averted his eyes from his partner, determined to give him as much privacy as he could without completely cutting himself off.

The spirit didn't have to wait as long as he thought he might before the other stirred, letting go of his legs and rising to his knees on the bed. Then, slowly, the boy lifted his head until he was finally looking at the spirit again.

For several moments he continued to just gaze thoughtfully into eyes that were the exact same shade as his, yet somehow managed to be so totally different. He could see the slats of his closet door through the other's transparent head, something he had gotten used to in a surprisingly short amount of time; he _was_ a spirit after all, so it only made sense that he would have a less than solid form.

What he hadn't yet gotten used to was the spirit's remarkable resemblance to himself. Sure, there were enough differences that anyone who knew what to look for couldn't mistake one of them for the other when they swapped control of the body, but he still found the resemblance uncanny. It only managed to strengthen his desire to know the other's true identity. It was clear to both of them by now that they weren't actually the same person. They were two distinct entities. So who _was_ this spirit really, and why did his appearance so closely mimic Yuugi's own?

With this thought so prominent in his mind, the words on his lips, and the only one who could give him an answer standing right in front of him, he forced himself to voice his question while he still had the courage.

"Who are you?" He asked. When he didn't receive an answer, he leaned forward a little closer to the other and said in the most demanding voice he could muster, "I want to know!"

He barely managed to keep from grimacing at how much harsher he had sounded than normal and forced himself not to break eye contact. Then the spirit replied to him, though not in the way he'd been expecting.

_"Why?"_

Yuugi blinked. "W-why…?" he repeated in confusion.

Surprise and uncertainty replaced any boldness he had managed to gather up, and he shrank from his straight-backed and uncharacteristically commanding posture into a shy little slouch that was much more commonplace for him.

"It's just…" he trailed off, finding himself unable to explain his reasoning. His eyes flicked down to his sock-clad feet. Had that really been okay of him to ask? Now that he was no longer overcome by the feeling of determined curiosity, he found himself fearing that he had overstepped his bounds.

Both of the bedroom's occupants were quiet, one of them worrying if his words had been offensive while the other pondered how he should answer his Light. Silence reigned for nearly a minute, the only noises being the crickets chirping outside the window and the occasional sound of a car driving past the game shop. Then the silence was broken when the spirit released a little sigh, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

_"…I have no idea myself."_ He admitted quietly.

Yuugi's head snapped back up and a shocked "Huh?" left his mouth before he'd even had a chance to consciously let it out. The spirit paused for a moment, then continued.

_"I knew you would ask me this one of these days__… and I have no intention of lying to you about any of it."_ He reopened his eyes, which held a mixed look of apprehension and the sort of tired honesty possessed by one who had deliberated over what untruth would cause the least amount of problems before resigning themselves to the fact that they just couldn't bring themselves to lie._ "The truth is, I don't know my own name… or _where_ I come from. I have no memories of my past."_

The intensity in those deep, mysterious eyes as they bored into Yuugi's own nearly made him shiver in discomfort, and he might even have felt a hint of fright had there not been such raw vulnerability there as well. Those eyes seemed almost desperate, searching the boy for answers both of them knew he didn't have simply because there was nowhere and no one else he could turn to.

_"Just who _am_ I?"_ The spirit whispered._ "I have no clue."_

The vulnerable look lasted only a moment longer before he quickly glanced away. His incorporeal body soon followed suit, and he shuffled across the carpet floor to stand against the desk a few feet from the bed, directly beneath the slanted skylight that served as a window. He mentally berated himself for losing control over his mask of composure and inscrutability. He was supposed to be comforting his Light, not giving him more things to worry about.

There was silence in the room for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," Yuugi apologized, unable to meet his other self's eyes. Instead, he focused on the Puzzle he had pulled into his lap, resting in the snug yet gentle grip of his hands as he sat cross-legged on top of his bedspread. "I shouldn't have asked you in the first place…" he swallowed, curling and uncurling his toes nervously. "Let's just… forget we had this conversation."

The spirit, who was now leaning casually against the desk with all signs of his earlier lapse of control over his emotions having vanished, hummed quietly in assent, feeling relieved that his Aibou was dropping the matter. He sent out a flow of gratitude through their link and settled in to think.

Soft moonlight shone through the glass panel of the skylight, augmenting the room's pale blue color scheme and settling on him as well, giving him an added luminance that enhanced the phantasmic, otherworldly appearance of his illusory form.

He normally despised any overt reminders of his intangibility – and by extension, his inability to perform any action without stealing, even temporarily, his Aibou's control over his own body to do it. This time, however, he hadn't noticed the effects the moonlight had on his countenance, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to register the way his body was reacting to the environment.

He'd meant it when he said he had always been aware that his Light would want to know his identity eventually, and that he would one day ask him who he really was, even if the boy's unfailingly polite nature meant that it would take a long time to build up his will enough to actually do it. But the spirit _had _known it would happen, and so he'd mentally prepared himself as best he could. It was only because of his preparation that he had managed to keep an expression of calm on his face almost until the end of his explanation.

Because the truth was that he hadn't been able to give his partner a single satisfactory answer. Who was he really? He didn't know. What was his name? He didn't know. Why had he been trapped in the Millennium Puzzle? He didn't know.

Nor did he have answers to any of the questions that were purely his own, ones his partner hadn't asked him and – knowing how kind, forgiving and non-judgmental the boy was – had probably not even crossed his mind. They were the ones that he'd only allowed himself to think about during the times where he'd been sure he had absolute privacy, but he had still managed to ask himself those questions on far too many occasions ever since he'd first realized that he was a separate entity and not simply another facet of the boy's personality.

What was he doing here? He didn't know. What reason was there for some stubborn, vengeful and amnesiac ghost to even exist in the first place? Again, he didn't know. If we were honest with himself, there really wasn't a lot he actually knew about anything, apart from games, of course. He barely refrained from shaking his head in an effort to banish the depressing and useless questions from his mind. Instead, he looked over at his Aibou, the one person who could nearly always distract him from unwanted thoughts.

At the sight of the boy, a feeling of calm settled over him, whispering silent streams of wordless comfort in his ears. Following that was a blanket of fondness and gratitude, the default emotions that Yuugi brought out in him.

Right now, in this moment, what knowledge the spirit _did_ have was enough.

_"There's one thing I know for sure. As long as you have the Millennium Puzzle, I can exist in this world."_ He said.

"Enough already…" Yuugi murmured quietly, his hold on the Puzzle tightening.

The spirit had to glance away at the pity-inducing crack in his Aibou's voice and couldn't help but hesitate before he continued. _"But I-"_

"_Enough_ already!" The teen interrupted in a near shout.

The spirit jolted a little, pushing away from the desk and turning to look at the normally soft-spoken boy in surprise. Yuugi had jumped up off the bed and was now standing next to it with his head bowed. The boy's eyes were firmly shut, his shoulders were quivering slightly, and his knuckles were beginning to pale with how tightly he was grasping the Puzzle, which he was now holding close to his chest the way a child would hold a comfort blanket when distressed.

Angular eyes that had widened with shock immediately began to soften, and his posture relaxed at the same time. He gazed down at the soft, non-threatening form that so perfectly matched his Aibou's disposition and felt another swell of affection rise in his heart and spread through his chest in warm, comforting waves.

_"…I want to be with you forever." _He freely admitted. _"And I don't care whether I get my memories back or not." _He only just managed to keep a straight face while saying the last bit, as it was not entirely true. He really _did _want them back; he had for as long as he'd recognized himself as someone distinct from Yuugi.

But if he were ever to express anything more than the smallest hint of interest in retrieving them, he knew that Yuugi would instantly throw away any of his own desires in order to help the spirit in his quest, even at the cost of giving up things of significant value to him: their bond, to name only one of those things. It would be selfish of him to go after his memories when he knew it might hurt the one he cared for most in the world.

And whether or not the boy was aware of it, their bond was just as important to the spirit as it was to his partner; when compared with that bond, the memories of a life he may as well have never lived for all that he knew about it were a mere triviality to him. So while saying he didn't want his memories was an untruth, it made no difference in what the spirit's final decision was about staying with his Light.

Yuugi lifted his head to look at his counterpart as his mind repeated the other's words back to him.

_I want to be with you forever._

The pinpricks at the corners of his eyes became more pronounced. He blinked a few times in quick succession to keep the moisture at bay, but there was no stopping the added shine to them, nor the increased stinging sensation that came as a result.

For the most part, his other self was a master at concealing his thoughts, but the spirit hadn't been able to completely mask his craving for the fulfillment that he would hopefully be granted if he could obtain his memories. And even if he had been able to hide it, Yuugi would still have been able to connect the dots; _no one_ who remembered nothing of their past could ever feel so unconcerned about whether they regained their memories or not. There was no doubt in the boy's mind that the other felt the same.

But there was also no mistaking the pure and fervent determination in the spirit's tone and expression when he had announced his desire to remain with him, no matter what the consequences would be. Even if it meant never finding his memories. No one had ever been willing to sacrifice so much for him. Not even Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun, who had gone into a burning building to rescue him.

What the spirit said was true: they really _did_ have good friends. The best, even. But while giving your life for someone might have seemed like the greatest sacrifice of them all, Yuugi knew better. Once your life had been given, that was it. You wouldn't have to deal with the consequences or the aftermath.

What his other self was offering him wasn't something that would be over with once he followed through with it. What he was offering would continue to affect him for what would most likely be years and years to come; forever, if it were possible. He was willing to give up his memories, to not even _try_ searching for them, as long as they could stay as they were now: together.

He was doing it all for him.

All for Yuugi, a simple, unremarkable high school student.

And all because, for some unfathomable reason–

_I want to be with you forever._

"Me too!" The boy responded earnestly. "Forever! I want-! I'll always…! I-I…" he tripped over his words in his haste to express every thought and emotion he was experiencing before remembering that he was still blocking his side of the link.

He tore away the barrier and let his impassioned emotions flow out of him and into the other, and along with the sudden discharge of his own feelings, he received an influx of adoration, somehow both potent and wholly, perfectly tender, that had been waiting on the other side of their link for him to open up and let it in.

With that, he reached the point of no return; barely stifled sobs caused his shoulders to shake with convulsive jerks and the tears that had been welling up in his eyes spilled over with the movements, now dripping at rapid if sporadic intervals. There had to be _something,_ some meager pittance he could give in return for the spirit's momentous gift.

Finally, looking up at his darker half and squeezing the Puzzle even tighter in an iron grip, he declared with an intensity and certainty backed by all the feelings in his heart, "I'll give you all _my _memories!"

Aside from Yuugi's shaking and stuttering breathing, neither of them moved for several seconds. The spirit of the Puzzle could do nothing but stare in astonishment at his lighter half, rendered speechless by the sheer significance of what he was being offered.

His Aibou – his amazing, wonderful, eternally selfless Aibou – was going to share all of his memories, his entire _life_… with someone who had just admitted that he could never return the tremendous favor in even the slightest degree. With an entity who might as well be a mere shadow, and who would never be able to reveal his identity.

The spirit noticed that his Light's shaking had barely begun to subside. That simply couldn't be allowed to continue.

Closing his eyes, he reached forward and placed his hands on either side of the Puzzle, gently cupping the smaller hands that still gripped the artifact. He heard the teen's breath hitch at the same time as he felt the feather-light pressure and oddly comforting, tingling buzz that they had only recently discovered always accompanied direct contact between the two, and after only a moment's hesitation the petite fingers began to relax and loosen their hold.

He lightly brushed against the mind of his Aibou, sending him the most peaceful half-formed thoughts he could manage. The trembling ceased soon after, and the spirit opened his eyes again to the sight of his Light looking up at him with such happiness and trust that he swore he could feel his nonexistent heart thump and throb with a set of feelings that were a perfect match.

The identical emotions flooding from both of them traveled back and forth between their link, mingling and amplifying to a level they never had before until neither of them could hold themselves back.

Yuugi lunged forward with such force that the spirit would have had the breath knocked out of him were it possible. The spirit's hands hovered uncertainly above the boy's back for a split second before the flow of wonderful feelings pushed away any hesitation, and he wrapped his arms securely around the small, warm body that had suddenly thrown itself at his chest.

That buzz of contact was back, almost completely enveloping them this time, and Yuugi very nearly burst out crying all over again in pure joy at the overwhelmingly delightful swirl of emotions, tears already beginning to prick the corners of his eyes as he curled up and pressed himself even deeper into his other half's embrace. The spirit felt a shudder run through him, one that had nothing to do with either cold or discomfort and everything to do with feelings that were the exact opposite. He gripped the boy tighter.

The tentative brushes and nudges and the occasional hand on a shoulder or light pat on the back that had made up any of their previous contact had nothing on this, and he was sure that not all of what made this so wonderful was the physical sensation. On its own, the feeling he got from Yuugi when they made contact physically sort of reminded him of how standing in a strong wind had felt when he'd been in one while borrowing his partner's body.

At the same time, though, it was completely different. For one thing, the feeling was restricted to the specific points where they were touching. For another, there was that ever-present tingling buzz. And of course, the warmth that was generated by Yuugi's real, human body was something that could never be replicated by mere wind.

This time, that warmth seeped even more deeply into the spirit, who gratefully basked in it. Despite the warmth, though, the feeling was very different from what he knew true physical touch to be like. And it probably felt even more different from "real" contact to his Aibou, since the spirit had no body heat to give him. He felt a little guilty for being unable to return the favor.

But either way, there was no denying that the sensations they experienced through their touch were unique to the two of them, and he liked to think that maybe it was a little more comfortable than the touch of two physical bodies, even from Yuugi's point of view.

That was almost certainly wishful thinking, though.

The spirit had rarely been touched by others while inhabiting the boy's body, and when he had been it was mostly the rough grips of sore losers who were angry to have lost to him, so his perspective on the pleasantness or unpleasantness of human touch was probably more than a little warped.

Yes, contact between himself and Aibou had been nice all those other times, and was even better now, but surely the warmth and other feelings his Light experienced when his sensitive nerve endings reacted to physical stimuli instead of imagined ones were much better than anything he could get from the spirit.

Thoughts like these had always plagued him, and were the main reason why the spirit was so hesitant to offer his own touch. Never mind that he had no clue what he was doing when he tried showing support or any form of compassion; if he thought his touch could truly help, he would give it readily no matter how out of his depth he felt doing so.

But he was certain that this, the contact they currently had, had to be something incomparable to any sensation either of them had ever felt.

_This_ was what he and his precious Light could have for as long as they were together. _This_ was the perfection of their bond. This was his _home_, just like any other place could be as long as he had Aibou there with him. And _nothing_, not memories or anything else, could compare to it.

If he ever happened to just stumble across his memories – which, to be honest, was probably even less likely to happen than pigs sprouting wings and flying – then good, that was an extra bonus for him. But if there was any chance that it would mess with their bond, he would turn around and walk away without a moment's hesitation.


End file.
